A sack full of worries almost made me miss out on sack full of blessings (Jackie Warren-Moore)

I had a sack full of 'I's' I carried around all day long and myriad worries that had been attached to them. It wasn't about me.

I'm a card-carrying worrier. I stress and worry way too much. Lately, I've been taking note of lots of stress, my own and others. I think we all worry too much.

On Monday I was in the city of Oswego. I was fortunate enough to be working with two classes of young, soon-to-be teachers. I worried that I couldn't convince them of the power words hold. I watched their faces as they wrote. Some of their brows were furrowed, they nervously tapped pens and jiggled legs. One young woman squinted her eyes and massaged her temples. When they read their work, it was filled with worrisome images. They wrote of the stress and worry of end-of-semester tasks. One wrote of teetering on a steep, jagged cliff, another of being violently uprooted and unable to re-root and save himself. I worried about them all and then worried that what I'd said to them was the right thing to say.

On the way home, I worried with a friend over an issue that plagued him. In the back of my head was a worry about the safety of the Boston marathoners. I was anxious to hear about the latest in the search for the Malayasian airliner and the tragic recovery effort happening in Korea. Running late, I worried that I would not have time with my 6-year-old granddaughter Nya, or time to return several calls I'd missed.

My granddaughter met me at the door. She took me by the hand and led me outside to a chair by the swingset. She told me she wanted me to see her new trick. She would swing high and then jump to the ground. Of course, I worried she might hurt herself. She popped up in front of me and said: "Gigi, isn't this a beautiful day?" I looked into her unlined, worry-free face and I got it.

I had a sack full of 'I's' I carried around all day long and myriad worries that had been attached to them. It wasn't about me. It was all about what I almost missed.

Let's start with the beautiful Lake Ontario and the gentle breeze. Then take a look at two classes of students in a multicultural class and think of the promise of that. There was pride in my friend being comfortable enough to share with me. There were people all over the globe lending their thoughts and strength to the Boston marathoners. Concern, help, comfort and prayers were being sent to the families of both major tragedies. Syracusans were aware of the coalition and it was growing stronger. The deadlines and call backs would run their course and eventually be handled in the order they were received.

Nya didn't hurt herself and took great pride in her new accomplishment. It was a beautiful spring day and I almost missed it. I can't say I'll stop worrying, but I'm tearing up my card.